


Speak every word as though it were unique

by wearetheluckyones



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Bottom Nick, Familiar Louis, M/M, Rimming, Supernatural S8E15: “Man’s Best Friend With Benefits”, Top Louis, Witch Nick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 00:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17498159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearetheluckyones/pseuds/wearetheluckyones
Summary: Louis knows pretty much straight away when he meets Nick. He’d always been told he would. Like a thrum of electricity under his skin, sparks of lightning that call out, ‘him! It’s him!’





	Speak every word as though it were unique

**Author's Note:**

> I... have no idea what this is. After almost a year of writer’s block it feels good to get back into it, but where the hell did this come from?
> 
> Well, okay, I know where it came from, it came from my latest Supernatural binge, and then twenty minutes of debating with Jess over what kind of animal Louis Tomlinson would be (I won the debate by the way). Louis’s unimpressed and slightly haughty, mischievous and cheeky, but also very very loving and affectionate (when he wants to be). Like a cat!
> 
> Title comes from You by Keaton Henson which is currently my favourite song.

Louis knows pretty much straight away when he meets Nick. He’d always been told he would. Like a thrum of electricity under his skin, sparks of lightning that call out, ‘ _him! It’s him!_ ’

Too bad Nick’s probably the worst person Louis’s ever met and Louis wants to stab him in the eye, really.

He’s just so _fucking annoying_. He won’t stop talking, and Harry, the little bastard, is just staring up at him like the sun shines out of his arsehole. He’s saying something about healing spells and herbs, and Harry and all the other baby witches are nodding along like he’s the next fucking coming.

Even Zayn, Harry’s familiar, hanging off of Harry’s arm with a dopey look on his face, looks particularly enthralled, and nothing _ever_ interests him.

Louis thinks Nick’s spelled them all, made them think he’s interesting. That’s the only logical reason he can come up with for all this bullshit undying devotion they’re all showing him.

“I need a fucking drink.” He finally announces when he’s had enough, interrupting Nick’s musings of sage and aloe vera. Nick stops, and blinks at Louis, a bit like a doe caught in the headlights of a car, and Louis would laugh at him if he did want to hit him so bad. “Not that your bullshit hasn’t been _riveting_.”

Louis leaves then, turning on his heel and heading to the bar where Niall’s waiting, an amused smirk on his face. He must’ve been eavesdropping the little bugger.

“Was it necessary to be _so_ mean?” He asks, getting out the vodka, pouring Louis a glass.

“Why do they like him so much? He’s just talking bollocks.” Louis says, taking the glass, smashing it down and looking for more.

“Maybe you’re just jealous the attention isn’t on you.” Niall replies, pouring more vodka into Louis’s empty glass.

Louis blinks at Niall, unimpressed, and Niall gets a shocked look on his face.

“Shit, Lou, your eyes!”

Louis blinks again and reaches up to touch his face; his eyelids and the skin underneath his lower eyelashes. “What?”

“They went all, like, fuck, like a cat or summat. I’ve blue and slitted. He’s not-?”

Louis glares at Niall, and simply says, “No.” before swallowing the vodka in the glass down and handing the glass back over for more.

Niall starts to laugh then, pouring more vodka out for Louis, and Louis thinks he’s got two people on his stab list today.

-*-*-

He sees Nick a lot. It’s not a purposeful choice, but now that Louis knows he’s Nick’s familiar, it’s like they’re magnetised, drawn together by some invisible force, one that calls to Louis, deep under his skin.

He’s shifted a few times now, just to see what he looks like - his animal form’s either a ragdoll or a Birman, he can never really tell them apart - but he’s stopped doing it since he realised it only made the itch under his skin worse. His nature is begging him to be with his witch, to curl up in his lap, but Louis wants to claw out his eyes.

Nick’s insufferable, really. He never stops yapping, he loves hearing himself talk. It’s mostly bollocks really, but yet everyone loves him. Louis _hates it_.

Nick’s started insulting him too. And Louis’s not going to say he didn’t start it, because he totally _did_ , but Nick’s been biting back, and it only makes Louis angrier.

Harry gets so pouty when they snap at each other, so unhappy that his friends aren’t friends with each other. Louis would almost stop to eliminate that look on Harry’s face, like he’s some sort of kicked puppy, but he doesn’t.

Sometimes he gets the distinct impression that Nick’s comments are more flirtatious than intentionally hurtful, but Louis always tries to shove thoughts like that away. Louis’s not going to be Nick’s familiar, and he’s _certainly_ not going to _sleep_ with Nick.

(Not that familiar/witch sexual relationships are exactly allowed).

And it not like that low thrum of energy he gets around Nick turns into arousal when Nick says something particularly nasty with that cheeky shit smile of his. Not often, anyway.

-*-*-

Niall can’t keep his damn mouth shut. You get some whiskey into the bastard and everything comes rushing out.

He tells Liam who then tells Zayn, who then tells Harry. Now everyone knows and Louis hates them all.

“It’s not going to go away, you know, you can’t just ignore it.” Zayn says very gently, playing with Harry’s hair as Harry sleeps, head cradled in Zayn’s lap. “I’ve heard stories, familiars ignoring their witches, pushing down the bond.”

“There are stories for everything.” Louis replies, making himself another drink. He’s turning into an alcoholic. At least he’ll always have something to do. “Doesn’t necessarily make them true.”

“Well, the few weeks I wasn’t with Harry, I know what they felt like. All wrong, like my bones were to big for my skin, like an itch in my veins. Lou, it’s been _months_.”

“I feel fine.” Louis lies, swallowing down a mouthful of the vodka and lemonade mixture in his glass. He doesn’t normally drink vodka with anything so sweet, he likes the sharp, bitter taste of it, but Harry likes the sweet, and once Louis had gone through all the ginger beer, he’d been left with nothing but the lemonade. “No itching.”

“You’re a liar, Louis Tomlinson.” Zayn says, caught somewhere between pitying and bemused. Fuck him.

“He’s a pretentious twat.” Louis replies, by way of answer. 

Zayn just blinks at him slowly, eyes flashing yellow before back to his human honey brown, completely unimpressed.

-*-*-

Nick’s being particularly insufferable tonight, the worse the more he drinks. Louis gets so close to going round the back and bringing back a knife to lodge into Nick’s shoulder he has to stand outside for thirty minutes chain smoking.

Even Harry’s made a comment on how annoying Nick’s been. You’ve gotta really fuck up to get Harry’s hackles up.

He’s showing off, but to whom, Louis has no clue.

“I think I should call him a taxi or summat.” Niall says, almost amused, when Louis goes back inside and straight to the bar. He’s watching Nick have a very animated conversation with one of the club’s other witches, Aimee, as her familiar Ian watches on, expression a bit taken aback. “Drink?”

“Double Jack.” Louis replies, falling into one of the stools at the bar, trying very hard to block out Nick’s voice. There’s a tinge of worry thrumming under Louis’s skin, one he can’t quite quash down. He wants Nick to go home and sleep whatever’s going on with him off.

Niall raises an eyebrow, but he says nothing as he pours. Louis only drinks American whiskey when he’s trying very hard not to do something his natures practically begging him to do. Louis hates that Niall knows that.

Niall gets this look on his face Louis can’t name when he hands Louis his drink, and it’s only when Louis starts to sense Nick’s presence, smell his cologne and the underlying scent of lime, coconut and candle wax that Louis has recently come to realise is all him, that the look on Niall’s face is anxiety.

“Tomlinson, Tomlinson, Tomlinson.” Nick says, sidling up against the bar next to Louis, turned to look at him. “Annoyed everyone off have you?”

Louis wants to be the bigger person, he really does, he wants to sit there and drink his whiskey and ignore Nick. But he’s never been very good at being the bigger person. “What, like you have? Where did all the other baby witches go again?”

Nick gives Louis a drunken scowl that’s almost comical. “You’re very loud, and terribly annoying and your bum is really too disproportionately big.”

That gets Louis hackles up, and instead of punching Nick like he really very much wants to, he hisses, like he would in his animal form, and he feels his eyes flash to that ice blue he’s only seen in passing glances.

“Oh,” Nick says, stumbling back. Tension Louis hadn’t realised Nick had been holding bleeds from his shoulders. “They’re so blue.”

Louis blinks his eyes back so they’re their normal human ocean-blue, picks up his glass and storms away from Nick, outside for another cigarette or twenty.

Louis can hear Zayn and Liam talking in the back alleyway, sharing a cigarette between them, and he stops, hides in the shadows when he hears his name. 

“I think it’s because of Lou.” Liam says, voice low.

“Of course it’s ‘cause of Louis.” Zayn replies, like Liam’s just stated something so obvious, like ‘ _the sky is blue_ ’.

“No,” Liam says, shuffling from foot to foot. “Like, I don’t think it’s just this whole weird foreplay they’ve been dancing around, I think it’s, like, cause Louis won’t accept it? That he’s Nick’s familiar? I mean, it’s affecting Lou, it might be effecting Nick too.”

Louis wants to huff and storm over to them, tell them nothings wrong with either him or Nick, Nick’s just a fucking prat. Louis’s just _fine_ , thanks. But he doesn’t. He waits and he listens.

“It’s been, like, five months, I’ve never heard of anyone going that long.” Liam says after he’s exhaled cigarette smoke from his mouth. 

“Maybe.” Zayn says, unhelpful as ever.

“Like, you were practically feverish those two weeks Harry was off in Costa Rica after you first met.” Liam says, like it’s some sort of answer. Just because Zayn was a fucking baby without his witch around. “Maybe we should intervene or something?”

“Lock ‘em in a closet until they work it out?” Zayn says, mostly joking, with a hint of truthfulness underneath the humour. 

If they lock Louis in a closet with Nick, he’ll kill Nick, then kill them.

“Maybe someone should tell Nick?” Liam offers.

Louis’s about to jump in then, threaten them with grievous bodily harm, when Zayn says, “And risk Louis’s wrath? He’d kill us all for it. Like actually, truely murder us.”

Too right he would.

“Harry’s the one who comes up with the good plans, ask him then.” Liam replies, suddenly indignant.

Louis goes back into the club then, shitting the door just loud enough so they know _someone_ heard them. He sculls the last of his whiskey and leaves the glass on the bar top before heading out the front door.

-*-*-

Nick starts to become more and more unbearable. The teasing and the little quips, the drinking, the _talking_.

Louis’s had just about enough of him.

He watches Nick go into the loos and follows him, locking the door behind him.

Nick’s standing over the urinal with his pants halfway unzipped, and he looks unsurprisingly shocked.

“You need to stop. If you don’t, I can’t be responsible for what sort of sharp object I insert into your person.”

Nick blinks his eyes a few times, then his mouth morphs into wolfish grin as he turns fully towards Louis. Louis’s wishing for one of those sharp objects now. “Did you really have to lock us in the bathroom to tell me this? Want to get me alone?”

Louis’s eyes flash cat-like ice blue, and Nick’s grin falters. He smells different very suddenly, and Louis’s still not used to the cat sense enough to name it.

Then Nick seems to snap out of his shock and stalks towards Louis. Louis thinks he’s about to hit him, arms tense at his sides, but he doesn’t. He takes Louis shoulders in his hands and pulls him forward until Louis crashes into him.

The smell’s stronger now he’s closer, like ripe limes and coconut bars. Arousal. Fuck, it’s arousal. Nick’s turned on. Louis’s eyes turn him on.

Nick kisses him then, hard and needy, and it’s not even a millisecond before Louis’s kissing back, leaning up on the tips of his toes and getting his fingers in the short hairs at the nape of Nick’s neck, tugging tightly until Nick’s whining.

The sound spurs Louis on, makes him fight for the dominance he’s always wanted to exert over Nick. It takes less time than he thought it would for Nick to give in.

Nick takes it, takes it all, the harsh kisses and the nips to his mouth, the painful way Louis’s tugging at his hair, the sharp pressure of the sink against his back. Louis doesn’t even remember pushing him against the sink, but here they are.

Nick makes a particularly pathetic whimpering sound when Louis bites down on his lip a bit to hard, and Louis tries to soothe the pain with his tongue, mumbling an apology. The next sound he makes, when Louis’s licking into his mouth, makes want pulse through Louis’s body. Louis’s never kissed someone so damned responsive.

It takes a monumental amount of effort to pull away from Nick, but Louis does, knows he has to unless he wants anyone to know what they’re up to in her. He untangles his finger from Nick’s hair and takes a couple steps back, feeling rather proud when he sees how disheveled and fucked out Nick looks. His mouth’s red and swollen, and for a second, Louis lets himself wonder if that’s how his mouth would look after it’s been around Louis’s dick.

“I should go.”

“Lou-“

Nick tries to argue, but Louis’s already unlocking the door, on his way out. 

-*-*-

Nick’s much easier to deal with the next few times Louis sees him, quieter and not so mean. He keeps looking at Louis, scent permeated with an undercurrent of arousal, and Louis thinks, more than once, about bending him over a table and mounting him.

It doesn’t last very long though.

Nick starts to get unbearable again not long after the two week mark following their snog fest.

So Louis takes him to a back room and does it again.

He snogs Nick until he’s pliant and quiet, pressing him into the desk, before walking away again.

This happens three more times following the first two.

-*-*-

The first time Nick stops Louis from pulling away after kissing him silly, Louis’s not expecting it, and he falls into Nick with a grunt.

“Don’t.” Nick says, when Louis’s straightened himself, trying to tug his wrist out of Nick’s hand. “Don’t go.”

Louis blinks up at Nick, weary and unsure. It doesn’t take him long to give in though. Truthfully, he should be embarrassed at how quickly he nods and goes back to kissing Nick’s mouth raw.

“Mine, can we go to mine?” Nick asks, practically begs. His eyes are so fucking green, Louis feels like he’s drowning in them.

“What kind of boy do you take me for?” Louis jokes, then, when he sees the desperation in Nick’s eyes, he says, “What do you want?”

Nick takes a deep, shaking breath. “I want you to talk me home, and I want you to fuck me.”

So Louis does.

He sneaks them out the back - though there’s really no point anymore, he’s sure everyone knows, there’ve been whispers - and into his car. He lets Nick direct him, a hand squeezed around his thigh, impatient to get there, get Nick naked and begging for him.

When Nick directs Louis into his driveway, it’s like the fog in his brain clears, for just a moment, and he takes his hand from Nick’s thigh as he turns off the ignition. “I’m your familiar.”

“I know.” Nick says, pushing open the passenger door, letting a breeze of cold London air into the car, like thats the only answer Louis needs. “Are you coming inside?”

Louis lets Nick lead him by the hand through the dark house and up the stairs to a large bedroom at the end of a short corridor. It smells so strongly of Nick, lime and coconut and candles, that Louis gets lost in it for a second, eyes flicks ice blue.

“Fuck, Lou.” Nick says, when he turns, sees Louis’s eyes. He reaches out his hands, so slowly, and takes Louis’s face, stroking his thumbs under Louis’s eyes. “I wanna know. What you look like. I wanna see.”

Louis puts his hands on Nick’s chest and walks him backwards towards the bed, setting him down on the edge carefully. “Later. Later.” He gets his hands under Nick’s shirt and tugs it up over his head. He’s got thick dark curls covering his chest and leading down into his jeans, and a handful of tattoos over his torso and arms, including one over his rib cage that says _Petz xx_ that confuses Louis. He’ll ask about it later. 

Louis’s never really been attracted to chest hair, but something about Nick’s really does it for him. Fuck.

Louis runs his fingers through the short hairs and leans down to kiss Nick again, lick his way into Nick’s mouth. 

Louis’s own shirt follows Nick’s to the floor, before he’s kneeling in front of Nick’s feet, pulling at Nick’s boots until they slip from his feet. He removes Nick’s socks then, then goes at the button and zipper of Nick’s jeans. “Lift your hips.” He instructs, waiting until Nick does as told before he starts tugging his jeans down his legs. They’re skinny and hairy like Nick’s chest, and he has two tattoos, one on each thigh, the outline of two roses on his left thigh, and _1912_ on his right.

“Yours too.” Nick says, poking his toes into Louis’s jean-clad thigh.

“In a bit.” Louis replies softly, running his palms up Nick’s thighs, nuzzling his face into the material over Nick’s crotch. His scent was stronger here, thicker, and Louis thinks he could drown in it, drown in coconuts and lime and candles. 

“Lou.” Nick says, voice a whine as he threads his fingers into Louis’s hair. “ _Hurry up_.”

“Shut up, you impatient twat.” There’s no bite to Louis’s words, they’re more of a tease, and they don’t stop his tongue from darting out of his mouth and licking a thick strip up the shape of Nick’s cock through the material of Nick’s briefs.

“Fu-uck.” Nick groans wetly.

Louis gets his mouth around the head of Nick’s cock under the material and _sucks_ , pulling the most pathetic whine from Nick Louis’s ever heard. It makes Louis’s whole body light up like New Year’s.

He likes this, likes teasing Nick, he really, really does, but he wants to taste him, taste him properly, get his mouth around Nick’s cock and make him come, swallow it down. He wants to watch Nick come apart under his hands. Wants it more than anything he’s every wanted in his life.

He stays like that for a bit, teasing Nick through his briefs, until Nick gets very bored of the teasing and pulls Louis up by the tight grip he has in his hair.

“Uh, ow.” Louis says, going without any other argument, climbing to his feet so he’s hovering over Nick again. Nick unthreads his fingers from Louis’s hair and starts in on the button of Louis’s jeans while Louis says, “Do you have to be _so_ impatient?”

“Yes.” Is all Nick says in reply, tugging the zipper down and going about pulling the jeans down Louis’s hips, letting them pool around his ankles. 

Louis can’t step out of them with his shoes in the way, so he toes them off and kicks them away, tugging his jeans the rest of the way off. 

“Eyes, wanna see them.” Nick says, and it sounds like a beg, unashamed and completely sincere.

“Haven’t learnt to control it all yet.” Louis says, though he tries very hard to make his eyes change without the strong emotions he’s felt every other time they’ve come out. It takes him a moment, but he gets it, blinking human blue eyes shut, opening cat-like ice blue eyes, pupils slitted so thin the black’s almost imperceptible in all that blue.

“Fuck, Louis.” Nick says, voice so quiet it’s barely above a whisper, before he’s getting his hands around the curve of Louis’s arse, pulling him down into his lap and kissing him again.

When he kisses Louis this time, he kisses him like he’s trying to drown in him, like he’s trying to drown Louis with him. It makes Louis’s chest ache from lack of oxygen and his head grow fuzzy. Fuck, Louis’s not ashamed to admit to himself that it’s the best kiss he’s ever had. Not that he would ever say that to Nick.

He can feel Nick’s cock against his own, feel Nick grinding his hips up into Louis’s, and it’s really not urgent enough for Louis to think about, and he wants to tease Nick some more.

“Up.” He says, pushing back against Nick’s chest so he knows Louis wants him to climb further up onto the bed and lay back against the pillows. It takes a moment for Nick’s brain to register, and understand, the command, but when he does, he does it straight away, shuffling backwards and falling back against the mattress while Louis follows on his knees over him. “Where’s your stuff?”

“Stuff?” Nick asks, a bit stupidly if you ask Louis, blinking wide green eyes up at him. The realisation of just how fucking lovely Nick is hits Louis like a punch to the gut.

“Lube. Condoms. Idiot.” Louis replies, rolling his eyes at Nick. When Nick points to his right-side bedside table, Louis leans over him and pulls the drawer open, riffling through it until he comes back with a bottle of lube and one of the condoms from the near-full box. He takes Nick’s hand in his and puts the lube and condom on top of his palm, closing his fist around them. “Hold onto that for me, will you?”

At Nick’s shaky nod, Louis starts to crawl further down his body, taking Nick’s briefs with him, throwing them away when they’re free from his legs and settling between his thighs. Louis’s never really though if someone’s dick as pretty before, they’re not supposed to be pretty, they serve a purpose, but Jesus fucking _Christ_.

“You’re so fucking _infuriating_.” Louis mutters under his breath, dropping onto his belly and shouldering Nick’s thighs further apart.

“What have I done now?” Nick asks, a little breathless, up on his elbows so he can watch Louis mouth over his skinny thighs and around his pelvis, missing his cock entirely.

Louis doesn’t reply.

He starts with his mouth around the head of Nick’s cock, sucking on it slowly, tonguing over the slit. He does it for a while, just to piss Nick off, just to get him begging for more, fingers grasping at any part of Louis to reach, encouraging him to _hurry the fuck up, hurry up_. Louis’s very much enjoying the power he seems to hold over Nick.

“What d’you want then?” Louis asks, sliding his mouth from the head of Nick’s dick, giving Nick his very best innocent smile.

Nick’s panting, and he rolls his eyes at Louis. “Fuck you. You’re so annoying.”

“Ditto, Dickshaw.” Louis replies, shouldering Nick’s thighs further apart until his feet are planted in the mattress on either side of Louis’s torso, knees bent up. “When d’you have a shower last?”

It takes a second for Nick’s brain to kick in, to understand the question and why it’s being asked, and when he does, he groans out a _fuck_ , and falls back onto the mattress with a heavy thump. “After work. Before I got to the club.”

“Good.” Louis says, scooting down the bed a bit further, using his hands to spread Nick’s arse cheeks apart so he can get a better look at his hole. Why is it so fucking dark in here. “Light.” He says to Nick, expectantly, then when he realises Nick probably has no clue what he’s on about, “Turn on the fucking light.”

Nick reaches over for the lamp on the bedside table closest to him, and when it’s on, it casts a warm orange glow in the room and gives Louis a better look at him.

Louis spends a good long while reading Nick with his tongue and mouth and the tips of his fingers before Nick’s pulling so tightly at Louis’s hair it actually hurts, and saying, “If you don’t hurry the fuck up I swear to god I will hex you into the next century.”

That makes Louis laugh, and he climbs back up onto his knees between Nick’s thighs, looking around Nick for the lube and the condom.

He slicks his fingers with lube, and he really, truely wants to tease some more, because it’s just so _fun_ , but he’s starting to get bored of the teasing himself, and he thinks if he doesn’t do this now he might actually explode. Like the frog balloon in Shrek. Ka-boom.

Louis doesn’t take his time finger Nick, he does it fast and efficient, make sure he won’t hurt Nick when he finally gets in him, cause he doesn’t think he can wait any longer. He wipes the lube off his fingers on Nick’s chest hair when he’s done, just to piss him off, and tears at the condom wrapper with his teeth.

“Prick.” Nick says, no heat behind his words or behind his eyes, at least not the angry kind of heat. He positions himself further up the bed, against the pillows and throws his legs wide open for Louis.

Louis gets rid of his pants one-handed, throwing them in the general direction of their other clothes, and starts to roll the condom onto himself. It’s the first time he’s actually touched his cock the whole night and Louis groans, hanging his head between his shoulders.

“Oi, fucking hurry it up.” Nick says quite impatiently, sending a glare down his bloody to Louis. “I swear if you don’t fuck me right now I’ll fuck myself and send you home.”

Louis gives Nick his cheekiest grin and shuffles closer to him, getting his knees under Nick’s bent legs. He takes his cock and rubs the tip of it slowly over Nick’s hole, just to be an arsehole, and doesn’t start to push in until Nick’s threatening him again.

“Oh Jesus _fuck_.” Nick groans, throwing his head back and baring down on Louis as he slides inside, hand still clutched so tightly in Louis’s hair it’s bound to give him a headache later. 

It doesn’t take long for Louis to bottom out, not with Nick helping, and when he does, he sits there a while, panting, to afraid that if he moves it’ll all be over.

“Louis, _for fuckssakes_.”

“So impatient.” Louis mumbles, amused, getting into a better position, and taking Nick’s thighs in his hands before he pulls out until just the tip of him is left inside, and slams back inside him with all the power he can muster.

Nick makes a truely pathetic whining noise that only serves to spur Louis on further, finding a better position so he can fuck into Nick harder, faster, make him beg for it. God, Louis wants to hear him beg for it.

“Lou, _fucking hell_ , Louis.” Nick’s unthreaded his fingers from Louis’s hair, and he’s got Louis’s face clasped in his hands, staring desperately into his eyes, transfixed. Louis hadn’t even realised they’d gone back to their familial state. “Shit, you’re so pretty, Lou.”

Louis kisses Nick then, he’s not very good at taking compliments, they make him all uncomfortable, and the pure, unadulterated honesty on Nick’s face is only making it worse.

Nick’s making these soft whining sounds into Louis mouth, coinciding with Louis’s thrusts into his body, and Louis swallows them down, goes harder, faster, desperate for more.

Louis’s orgasm sneaks up on him, crashes into like a wave. God, he was so hoping to make Nick come first.

“Lou,” Nick whispers into Louis’s mouth, soft and reverent, as Louis spills into the condom and inside Nick. 

Louis’s so fucking oversensitive after he’s come, he always is, but he keeps going, keeps pistoning his hips, keeps wrenching desperate sounds from Nick’s mouth, cause he wants Nick to come too. 

It doesn’t take long after Louis’s gotten a hand around Nick’s dick, jerking him with a tight fist, using his precise to slick the way. God, if Nick’s pretty on any normal day, he’s fucking beautiful when he comes, cheeks flushed red, head flung back and eyes squeezed shut as he whines out Louis’s name on an exhale.

Louis pulls out of Nick and tugs off the condom, tying it off and throwing it onto the floor, knowing full well Nick will castrate him for it later. He falls back into the bed next Nick, panting, and says, “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

-*-*-

It’s late morning when Louis wakes, sun shining in through slits in the curtain, over Louis’s back.

He feels a bit wrong, sort of disproportionate, and it takes him a second to realise its cause he’s shifted in the night and curled up into the hollow of Nick’s neck. He feels warm and comfortable, and it feels right, he feels right curled up with Nick in his familial form.

He can feel the beginnings of the bond niggling in the back of his mind, begging to be fulfilled, solidified. He decides he’ll deal with it later. For now, he’s perfectly content how and where he is.


End file.
